White Sisters
by Echoedge
Summary: Seasons after the death of Firestar, Flowkit and Lightkit are born in the midst of a brutal war between all four clans that has been going on for moons. Little do they know the secretive history of every cat around them, and the power of the loners that live beyond the territories. Will the fate of the Clans rest in their paws, or the paws of the most unlikely cats in the forest?
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

In the shadows of the night, the moon illuminates claws flashing and fangs snapping, and the background noise of cats shrieking for their lives and loyalties drowns out the sounds of the summer evening. Stars shine down serenely upon lithe bodies performing hideous dances around each other, stalking and pouncing, tearing and biting. In the middle of it all, two majestic felines creep in a circle, growling and gnashing their teeth. Their eyes glow in the darkness in a silent face-off.

"Ashstar," the dark tom spits. "I've been waiting for this for moons." His black stripes ripple across his skin as his muscles flex. Power pulses through his legs and back, waiting for a chance to strike.

"Sharpstar," Ashstar replies in a soft, beautiful voice. "Do you really want to do this? There's still a chance for peace." Behind her silhouette, lightning flashes across the sky. Thunderclouds roll in and slick drops of rain fall onto the writhing mass of battling cats. "We can still stop fighting. Listen to me, Sharpstar. Go back to ThunderClan. Take care of your elders. Let them have something to live for. This is about our kits, our apprentices, and our warriors. Not only about you. Please, let's end this together, forever. Sharpstar, are you with me?" Around them, the turmoil comes to a halt when the group hears these last words.

Indecision flashes across the dark face of Sharpstar. He glances back and forth at the crowd around him, and his pearly eyes blink once. Without a sound, he steps forward proudly. Slowly, he lifts his head and stares at Ashstar evenly. It seems like a moon has passed before Sharpstar has positioned himself directly in front of her. As fast as the lightning bolts appearing behind him, he lashes out, claws unsheathed, and rips open Ashstar's throat. A collective hiss of terror rises from the cats around him, and Sharpstar lets the limp body of the WindClan's leader slump to the wet ground.

"Does anyone else wish for peace?" He yowls. "See what happens when you try to end this war. It will never end. Not until there is a rightful winner!" Cats crouch defiantly, ready to leap onto this tyrant and put an end to his ways. They exchange meaningful looks, planning silently when to strike and where.

A bold individual raises her eyes. She pads forward silently, shouldering past cats blocking her way. "Sharpstar," she whispers.

"Blackmoon," he greets her cooly.

"Sharpstar," she repeats, this time with a deep sorrow behind her words, "how could you? Ashstar did nothing to you but try to keep whatever peace we have left. And then -" her voice breaks, but she pushes on. "And then… you killed her. Why, Sharpstar, why?"

Shocked, the dark tom flinches at the ice in her speech. His eyes widen in surprise as she melts back into the crowd as if nothing had happened. And then the cramped area clears as cats disappear back into their territories, one at a time. Each gives Sharpstar a horrified glance, WindClan and ThunderClan alike, before they vanish.

After the entire clearing is empty and silent, Sharpstar can smell the lingering scent of fresh blood and the still-vivid scent of dead and dying warriors. The reality of the situation strikes him in a heartbeat - he has needlessly killed so many brave cats that were only fighting because fighting was all they knew.

Dread sinks into his bones and what Blackmoon said flashes back to him in an instant. _Why, why? You killed her…. _How could he? She was right. But… no. This war is necessary. They need to defeat the rest of the evilness in the Clans. The only way is through war.

But he wonders if he was convincing his Clan or himself.

Another bolt of lightning lights up the midnight sky and jolts him from his thoughts. The entire forest is dark, and the trees around him have never seemed so threatening and ominous. He needed to go home. To be with his Clan, and his deputy, to get advice. Petalsong wouldn't have agreed with what happened tonight, and she would give some good opinions about the battles to come.

With a growl, he leaps into the waiting trees and undergrowth, ready to journey back to his home. Faster than the wind, he bounds across the stream and to his camp, ready to greet his Clan and apologize for what he did.

But there is no camp. Where it all used to be lies a desolated clearing, littered with the bodies of cats in pain. Petalsong is nowhere to be seen. The only cat left standing is a pure white she-cat, lean and muscular, but still elegant. No, there are three cats. Now two… and they combine into the same pure white one again.

**O O O**

In a pool of sweat, Sharpstar wakes up and his eyes fly open. Petalsong stands over him, concerned. His den is warm and cozy compared to the howling winter outside.

Another dream from StarClan….


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Blackmoon, Blackmoon!" A white kit tumbles onto her mother's belly. Another identical kitten flops onto the pile and squeals in delight.

"Flowkit, Lightkit, get off!" Their mother chides gently. "It's time for you to meet your newest denmate, Cherrykit." The two kits mew joyfully as Cherrykit's mother, Minttail, shoves her daughter forward.

Bashfully, the pale ginger kitten glances up at her newest friends. "Hi," she says quietly. "M-m-m -" Her face contorts in a colossal sneeze. Lightkit jumps away as the little kitten unleashes a huge gust of air. "Are you alright?" Flowkit asks carefully, as if she's worried she might get blasted again.

"Yes," Cherrykit replies meekly, "I'm just really sick, I guess." Her eyes morph into pools of watery stars and pearls, growing bigger and bigger by the second. _StarClan themselves must have blessed these eyes_, Flowkit thinks in awe. _They're like huge puddles of pure water._ A crooked grin breaks out across the endearing look and this moment is shattered. But Flowkit adores this little kit. Even with a smile that promises trouble for moons to come, she adores her.

"What I was going to say is that my name is Cherrykit, and I have a circle on my stomach!" In a single movement, she squeals ecstatically, jumps in the air, and flips over, landing hard on her spine. Still, there's that adorable smile.

Lightkit comes to look, too, as Cherrykit stretches out her pale ginger body, revealing a circle of gray on the middle of her belly. Not giving them a chance to say anything, Cherrykit bursts into words, like a splattering of rain, and perhaps a rainbow, too. "It's been there since I was born, but I think it's really a symbol from StarClan, and I'm special and I'll have the power of the stars in my paws like Jayfeather and Dovewing and Lionblaze and I will find a way to end the evil in the forest, but I don't know how, but I still will, and no one will die, only the evil cats, and then," she pauses to take a huge breath, "I'll stand on the island and I will be called Cherrystar because everyone knows that I should be the leader since I defeated the evil cats and then everyone will know my name and then StarClan will come down and call me wonderful and a hero and then I will go back to my Clan and have a big feast for everyone!"

Minttail beams and nudges her kit over to her side, and rolls her over so she can groom Cherrykit's back. "I'm sure you'll be StarClan's hero someday, sweet. But I'll always love you forever." She licks Cherrykit's muddled fur, taming the mess. "Now, though, it's time to go to sleep. StarClan wouldn't want a dirty, tired hero, would they -" Minttail cuts off as she realizes that Cherrykit is already fast asleep. Wearily, Minttail gives Blackmoon a heavy smile and curls her body around her kit, guarding her from the chill of leaf-bare.

Suddenly, a rush of cold air blows into the nursery as Sharpstar, the leader of ThunderClan, barges in. His dark pelt is dusted with white snow and he is visibly shivering. "Blackmoon!" He pants. "I need to ask you a great favor. This war is going downhill and we need new warriors to fight. Will you offer Flowkit and Lightkit to be apprentices? We need them to succeed in this war!" His eyes look stricken, as if he had just woken from a nightmare.

Horror flashes across Blackmoon's pleasant face. She shoves her kits roughly behind her to shield them. "Sharpstar. Sharpstar, how can you disobey the warrior code? Flowkit and Lightkit are only five moons old. They need time to learn and grow with their mother and denmates before they can go get killed in your StarClan-forsaken war! Go away until they're six moons old, Sharpstar." Blackmoon flexes her claws, piercing the fluffy bed she shares with her kits. The dark tom back away, dipping his head politely. "As you wish, Blackmoon. Don't blame me if our camp is torn apart."

As Sharpstar recedes silently, Blackmoon hisses softly and turns to Minttail. "He's going to be death of us all," she whispers. And she knows it's true. Carefully, she pulls her daughters to her and grooms them lovingly, trying in vain to lull them to sleep. "Blackmoon, are we going to be warriors?" Flowkit wonders in shock. "Ever?"

"Of course you will. We just need to wait until you're old enough to train." Blackmoon shakes her head and glances at Minttail again. Sympathy clouds her eyes and she looks down at Cherrykit, tenderly grooming her. The scent of crow-food drifts through the den, as if someone had dumped a rotting mouse on the fresh-kill pile. Blackmoon wrinkles her nose and her kits follow suit.

"What in StarClan is that smell?" Minttail asks, thoroughly disgusted. "Actually, I'll go check. Would you keep Cherrykit warm while I'm gone?" Blackmoon nods and scoots the shivering ginger kit into her nest as Minttail disappears through the curtain of dead ivy covering the entrance to the nursery.

"Is everything okay?" Flowkit mumbles, trying not to open her mouth so she doesn't have to breathe the foul air.

"I think so," Blackmoon sighs. "It's just a bad piece of prey."

No sooner than she says so, Minttail bursts into the nursery, looking agitated. "It's Foxgust! He's… he's outside." Blackmoon flinches and dashes outside, waking the three kits she was fondly cuddling with. Cherrykit blinks sleep from her eyes and looks around sleepily for a moment before slumping back into the nest and drifting into unconsciousness again. Flowkit and Lightkit jolt from their sleep and try to untangle themselves from each other, just in time to see their terrified mother dart into the cold weather outside.

**O O O**

As the broken body of an orange tom is dragged mournfully into the camp, yowls and wails of dismay chime across the clearing as apprentices, elders, and queens alike recognize their fallen warrior. He is arranged in the center of camp to look like he is peacefully asleep.

With a howl of disbelief, Sharpstar emerges from his den and paces around Foxgust, muttering under his breath. Blackmoon bursts into the clearing and shrieks in grief. She recognizes her mate's body lying on the cold, snowy ground. The rest of the Clan makes an aisle for the frenzied queen to hurtle through.

"Foxgust!" She hisses and prods him with her paw. He stays still and cold. Her voice rises in a hideous scream, but she quickly chokes it back in, not wanting to make a spectacle of herself. "Please, please, please…." She whispers. "StarClan, no! Bring him _back_! Please, please…." Her voice drops into silence. Crestfallen, her tail falls to the ground and sends puffs of snow into the air. Spirals of ice float into the sky, and a tiny breath escapes the mouth of the fallen Foxgust. Sharpstar bows his head and closes his eyes one at a time. He breathes heavily and retreats back into his den, trailing his paws. His half-open eyes dart back and forth, paranoid, and his deputy, Petalsong, follows him in.

From the nursery Flowkit and Lightkit emerge, confused and wary. They are oblivious to the loss the entire Clan has suffered. Foxgust, their own father, is dead.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Flowkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Flowpaw." Sharpstar pauses and surveys the waiting crowd of cats, looking for the perfect mentor. "Your mentor will be Iceclaw. I hope he will pass down all he knows on to you." The leader turns to Iceclaw as he leaps onto the Highledge. "Iceclaw, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You had received excellent training from Starpelt, and you have shown yourself to be stealthy and strong. You will be the mentor of Flowpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to her." Flowpaw's chest swells with pride and her eyes twinkle as she is accompanied by Iceclaw back to the group of joyous cats below. She immediately pesters him with questions until he silences her playfully.

Blackmoon shoves Lightkit forward toward the Highledge. Her entire body is trembling nervously, and for a moment, Blackmoon feels sympathy, but then she remembers the excitement and anxiety that _she_ felt during her apprentice ceremony. The delight afterwards is enough to balance with the worry before.

"Lightkit," Sharpstar begins. The little white kit stumbles up to the leader's perch and bumps roughly into the dark tom. He looks flustered, then amused. Lightkit glances up, cowering, and starts to back away, completely mortified. "Lightkit, wait," the leader consoles gently. "It's alright." ThunderClan below murmurs fondly as Lightkit returns to her position next to Sharpstar. "Lightkit," he says again, "you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Lightpaw." Again, Sharpstar looks back and forth for a fitting mentor. "Morningdew will be your mentor. I hope she will pass down all she knows on to you." Morningdew, a pale brown she-cat, strides gracefully up to Lightpaw and looks down at her sternly. Sharpstar addresses Morningdew, "Morningdew, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You had received excellent training from Dovewing, and you have shown yourself to be smart and brave. You will be the mentor of Lightpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to her." Soft voices can be heard all over the camp as cats take in the fact that _Morningdew_ is mentoring _Lightpaw_. Everyone in the Clan knows that Morningdew has always been the strictest and most uncompromising queen and warrior since the old legend Yellowfang. Lightkit stares at the ground, seemingly devastated, and trudges down with her new guide. Blackmoon fights her motherly urge to run to her daughter's side and comfort her. This is Lightpaw's battle, not hers.

With a sigh, she joins in the celebratory chants rising from the gathered cats around her. "Flowpaw! Lightpaw! Flowpaw! Lightpaw!" Far into the fading day, the cries can still be heard when a grinning warrior mutters the name on the way to the fresh-kill pile or shares the words with a friend when sharing tongues.

Bursting with excitement, Flowpaw races to her sister's side. "Lightkit - I mean Lightpaw!" She bumps her shoulder into Lightpaw's affectionately. Lightpaw manages a weak smile, but behind it, her eyes are doleful. Flowpaw's jubilant mood dampens as she leads her sister through the tendrils of bramble covering the entrance to their new den - the apprentices' den. The overwhelming scent of cat confuses their sensitive scent glands, but only for a moment.

Suddenly, a flash of bright orange crashes into them, knocking them sideways and on top of each other. Puzzled, the sisters exchange looks before taking in the situation. There is no orange creature anywhere. Slowly, Flowpaw helps Lightpaw to her paws. They glance around, searching for the thing that attacked them. Promptly, they are each jostled off balance and fall onto their haunches again. An orange cat materializes in front of them, and Lightpaw immediately recognizes him as Weaselpaw, a haughty apprentice that always thinks he's better than anyone else. Her mouth instantly fills with foul-tasting bile.

"So _you _are the newest _apprentices_," Weaselpaw sneers. "You can sleep _there_ -" he gestures with his tail "- nearest to the outside. Only apprentices who have _trained_ can sleep in the _middle_, where it's actually _warm_." He gives them a scalding look and stalks out of the den pompously.

"Lightpaw…." Flowpaw begins, "Oh, I'm so sorry about everything today. It's just been a mouse-brained day. And… if there's anything… anything I can do to make you feel better, just tell me. Okay, sister?"

Lightpaw raises her eyes cautiously, and then releases a purr of gratitude. "Thank you, Flowpaw," she mewls. "But there's really nothing you can do. I'm just stuck in the bottom of my lake."

"Well, if this might make you float… did you notice how Weaselpaw really _stresses_ some of his _words_ even though he doesn't _need to_? It sounds like he's got a _hairball_ stuck in his _throat_ that he just _can't_ get _out_!"

Lightpaw peeks up at her sister again with a hint of a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. "I guess _Weaselpaw_ should go to the _dirtplace_ unless he wants his _nest_ to smell like his _belly_ all _night_!" Lightpaw meows happily. "You'd better _listen_ to me, you _unworthy_ new _apprentice_!" The sisters share a laugh before collapsing into their respective nests, which they choose to be right next to each other.

As moonhigh begins to draw near, apprentices start to file into the den, complaining about difficult training and unforgiving mentors. _If only they had Morningdew_, Lightpaw thinks bitterly. _Then they would know what it's like to have a strict mentor._

The sky darkens gradually and silverpelt shows its bright sparks. Lightpaw heaves a faint sigh before closing her eyes and wishing for a comforting dream about chasing butterflies.

**O O O**

In a paradisiacal green meadow, wildflowers wave back and forth in the light breeze weaving through the surrounding trees. Blue and red butterflies flutter brightly in the warm, humid air as fuzzy dandelion fluff drifts along the trails of doves and sparrows. In the midst of it all, a dark, striped tom stands superiorly facing a russet she-cat with a dusting of white on her ears and tail. They gaze at each other, not daring to shatter the glass hanging precariously in the clouds. Silently, the she-cat steps forward and studies the gray tom, circling him elegantly. He turns to continue to meet her gaze, but when she reaches her starting point again, he drops his head shamefully.

"How could you, Sharpstar?" The she-cat shrieks, fracturing the crystals floating high above. Splinters rain down and pierce the skin of the majestic felines, cutting and tearing until blood flows across the tranquil field. Blades rise from the ground until they form columns holding up the darkening sky itself. The two cats yowl as they are wounded and hurt, but the punishment of StarClan rests upon their burdened shoulders. They have no choice but to endure.


	4. Chapter 3

**I had a minor formatting error (I'm apparently an error magnet), and some things that were supposed to be italicized were not. So if you read this chapter before 6:56 Central Time on Dec 1, 2014, then if you have spare time, you can reread it and it will make a lot more sense.  
><span>****Thanks! Kat C:**

**Chapter 3**

Dawn light streams into the den as a tall silhouette parts the bramble curtain covering the entrance. "Wake up, apprentices," he growls, then disappears into the white brightness. Small cats stir in their half-asleep states, yawning widely and stretching luxuriously.

Flowpaw flexes each of her legs grandly, relishing the refreshing feeling. She nudges her sister, who is still slumbering peacefully. "Lightpaw!" She hisses. "Wake up, or we'll get in trouble!" The white she-cat stirs, but her eyes stay stubbornly shut. "Now, Lightpaw!" Flowpaw rolls her sister over and starts to tap her belly playfully. Finally, the tired she-cat opens one eye and realizes that today is her first day as an apprentice!

"Flowpaw, why didn't you tell me?" Lightpaw scrambles out of her nest and looks around excitedly. Then her smile disappears and is replaced by a gloomy frown. "Oh, right," she mumbles. "I have Morningdew." She quickly grooms herself and plods out into the main camp, steeling herself for the entire day with her rigid mentor.

Flowpaw watches on as her sister trails depression behind her. Sadness washes over her and she takes her time running her tongue along her disheveled fur. _Why couldn't Lightpaw have Iceclaw, and I have Morningdew? I'd rather be bossed around all day than see my sister so sad._ The white cat raises her head, ready to tackle another day. At least she can be strong for her sister.

Outside, Iceclaw is grooming himself quietly, lost in thought. He glances up at her as she nears him, and she bows her head respectfully. "Iceclaw," she says.

"Good morning, Flowpaw. Are you ready for a tour of our territory?" Iceclaw shakes his fur out and stretches contentedly. His light gray fur catches the sunlight and glints brilliantly as he stands up and beckons to Flowpaw to follow him out of camp.

"Wait," Flowpaw meows suddenly. _Why did I say that? Well, it's too late now._ "Uh, Iceclaw? Can we tour the territory with Lightpaw and Morningdew, too?" She cringes when he gives her a scalding glare.

His gaze softens as he realizes that she only wants to let her sister have fun under the strict watch of her mentor. "Alright, but only for today," Iceclaw relents. "Wait here, I'll go find them." As Iceclaw trots away, Flowpaw sits down on her haunches and watches the warriors' den for any sign of her mother. She has to say goodbye to her before she goes.

Finally, a black she-cat emerges from the warriors' den and glances around in the harsh light. "Blackmoon!" Flowpaw mews loudly. Her mother turns and tilts her head, puzzled.

"What is it, Flowpaw?" She asks.

"I just wanted to say goodbye before I go train," Flowpaw murmurs, and in an instant, a dark pelt curls over her, comforting her with soothing mews.

"I love you, daughter. And I'll see you at sunhigh or afterward. Tell Lightpaw that she'll do just fine with Morningdew." Blackmoon gives her daughter a smile and ambles back to the fresh-kill pile, looking for a morsel left over from last night.

"Flowpaw?" Iceclaw enters her field of view. "Ready to go?" Lightpaw and Morningdew stand behind him, and her sister gives her a quick affectionate blink.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Flowpaw replies and falls into step with her sister as the two warriors take the lead out of camp. "How's Morningdew?" Flowpaw whispers to Lightpaw.

"She hasn't really been that bad yet," Lightpaw answers, stepping lightly over a prickly bush. "I don't…." She trails off as the beauty of the forest stuns her into awe. The canopy of bare branches weave a design over her head, letting the sunlight fall to the forest floor in patches and patterns. Thorny shrubs litter the ground, making sections of snow-free ground. Tiny sounds rustle beneath the snow and leaves they trod on, hinting at the coming newleaf. Scents drift from the lake far away, and the path they follow reeks of hunting and patrolling warriors that have been on the track for countless moons. Even in leaf-bare, the trees and brambles take on a sort of frozen charm.

"Alright," Morningdew begins. "This is where we start _paying attention_. Over this hill," she gestures with her tail at a white mound in the near distance, "is the border we share with WindClan. Follow me," she bounds off, leaving puffs of snow flying in her wake.

The other three cats race after her, each secretly wanting to be the first to see the WindClan border. As they near the summit, Lightpaw slows down, out of breath. "Can we… can we take a little… break?" Her chest heaves as she plops onto the ground without waiting for an answer.

"No -" Morningdew begins, but Iceclaw cuts her off and leads her behind a clump of gorse. They exchange hushed words before reappearing, both glaring at the other. Tension crackles in the air between them, and the sisters' keen minds pick up the remnants of an argument. "I - we - have decided to let you take… a 'little break,'" Morningdew spits in the general direction of Iceclaw.

Flowpaw drops next to her sister and smiles a little as snowflakes are dislodged from the layer of white clinging to the earth. _Puffs make kits sneeze, but they make apprentices chuckle maturely. Warriors… a whole different story._ Her reverie is interrupted by the impatient stomp of her sister's mentor.

"Alright," the pale brown she-cat snaps, "if we ever want strong warriors, they need to gain some stamina. Let's go." Iceclaw shrugs helplessly at the two apprentices as he follows the stern Morningdew.

"Up here," Iceclaw announces, "is the Moonpool. We probably won't have enough time to journey all the way up there today, but perhaps another time, we'll go a little ways." He turns to his fellow warrior. "Twoleg nest next?" Morningdew nods and the two lead the weary Lightpaw and Flowpaw up and away from the lake.

Marching blindly, the white apprentices dodge hanging vines and spiny trees automatically, using their other senses to navigate. Their paws turn sore and cracked, even on the soft, snowy forest floor. Suddenly, the feeling beneath their pads changes. It turns hard and bumpy, icy and rough at the same time. "What -" Flowpaw starts.

"It's the old Thunderpath. Twolegs used to use it to move around, but we haven't seen any here in moons," Morningdew explains hurriedly. "We'll follow this up to the abandoned nest. It's just a little farther."

Sooner than she expected, an ominous, empty structure looms in front of Lightpaw, and she lets out a squeak of surprise. "Is that the Twoleg nest?" She inquires in wonder.

"Yes," Iceclaw responds and leads them closer. "It's, honestly, very creepy, but it's a great place to hunt and because of Jayfeather, there's a patch of catmint growing here. It'll cure greencough and whitecough. When almost the entire Clan had greencough, they sheltered here so that the rest of the Clan wouldn't catch the sickness. But that was a very, very long time ago, so there aren't any traces of greencough still here - don't worry."

Curiosity gets the better of the sisters and they venture into the dark nest. It smells like every warrior's dream - mice. Mice, mice, mice. Even in leaf-bare, the entire place reeks of fresh prey waiting to be caught. High above, there is no roof, so the clear sky shines down brightly through the criss-crossing logs spanning from one side of the walls to the other. Leftover snowflakes drift down through the cracks.

"Time to go," Morningdew scolds and nudges the apprentices roughly out of the nest. "Let's go back to camp," she suggests, gesturing with her tail at the sinking sun. Iceclaw blinks in surprise, shocked at how time had passes so quickly.

Relieved, Flowpaw and Lightpaw follow their mentors back down toward the lake and to their camp. Their paws don't protest as they register the hard texture of the Thunderpath, and the drone of Iceclaw's words about the other half of the territory don't sink in at all. Their eyes are heavy and almost frozen shut, exhausted.

"...Flowpaw? Lightpaw?" A voice drowns out the buzz of silence in Lightpaw's ear. She prods her sister rigidly and watches in amusement as her eyelids flutter slowly before opening.

"I was _saying_," Iceclaw meows, "that we're almost here and I don't want you to walk right over the cliff and fall into the dirtplace." Flowpaw smiles detachedly, but Lightpaw remains silent, weighted with fatigue. "Follow me."

Leisurely, the four cats trek through the bristly tunnel that is the entrance to the camp. _Funny,_ Lightpaw thinks, _I never noticed this before._ Thorns threaten to dig into her skin, but they always remain just far enough away not to harm her.

Blackmoon waits in the center of the clearing, sharing tongues with a red warrior - Flamesmoke - peacefully. When she sees her daughters, she jumps up, apologizes to Flamesmoke, and dashes to the camp entrances, stealing the apprentices from their mentors. "Oh, my kits! How was it? Did you explore the entire territory?" Lightpaw and Flowpaw both shake their heads wearily, and their exhaustion becomes apparent to their mother. "Oh, StarClan. You mentors wore my kits down!" She shakes her head when Morningdew scowls at her from the fresh-kill pile. "Let's get you something to eat. Then you can go sleep."

After the sisters have filled their stomachs, they gratefully enter the apprentices' den, too tired to even notice the ever-annoying Weaselpaw circling them incessantly.

**O O O**

A tired Morningdew retires to her nest, curling up snugly and watching through the slits of her vision as more and more warriors file into the den, some excited, some bored, some practically sleeping. She rolls her eyes as best as she can with her eyes closed and tucks her tail under her body so some unruly new warrior doesn't step on it.**  
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Sleep refuses to come to her, and as hard as she tries, her mind just won't quiet. _Are these the kits? They can't be. She said they would be completely white, and they would be one. So, of course, two white apprentices with gray accents can't be completely white or one single thing. Why are you troubling yourself with this? Go to sleep!_


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Alright, apprentices," Iceclaw meows commandingly. "Today we learn how to hunt." He motions for the cats around him to be silent as he glances into the trees above. Young cats fidget quietly, waiting for their turn.

_I can't believe we're actually going to find our own prey! _Flowpaw rejoices inside, wishing that her sister catches the juiciest mouse of them all. The sound of the thaw rumbles softly in the distance as she watches Iceclaw, who is now crouching, facing a rotten stump of a tree. _How does he do all that? It's so… majestic._ She realizes her mouth is gaping and quickly closes it, making a snapping sound so loud that it seems like the entire Clan could hear it. Everyone looks to her with accusations and questions in their eyes. "S-sorry," Flowpaw stammers, embarrassed to have disturbed her mentor's demonstration. Iceclaw shakes his head and goes back to his hunt, but the little animal is gone, scared off by the click of Flowpaw's jaw.

"Alright," Iceclaw says, slightly flustered. "We'll work on technique today, and we'll do some hunting, too, if we have time." Lightpaw perks up at this; her mentor is elsewhere today and that means she can learn without feeling pressured.

"First, we are silent," Iceclaw begins, his tail twitching in the air behind him. "Then we listen to the sound we have created." The noises of the forest rush into the apprentices' ears, filling them with hints as to where the possible fresh-kill is around them. Leaves rustle up above, a breeze flows gently through the still-bare branches, and the first birds of newleaf chirp from far away. _Wow,_ Flowpaw thinks in wonder. _Why have I never been quiet enough to hear all this? It's like I had beeswax in my ears since I was born!_ Her eyes widen as Iceclaw motions with his tail for all of the cats-in-training to hold still. His eyes dart to the decaying stump and back to the group, signaling that there is something alive within the wormy wood. _This is so exciting! _Flowpaw grins widely, showing her teeth. _Excitingexcitingexcitingexcitingexciting! Will he catch something? What will it be?_ Her anxiousness must have been apparent, because her sister next to her gives her a look. _What was that for?_ Flowpaw thinks indignantly. _It's not like you're being any better than I am, sulking around because of Morningdew -_ Iceclaw turns around and glares right at her, as if he could hear her thoughts. His piercing green eyes bore holes into her skull, and it really does hurt. _Oops. Maybe he really can read my thoughts. He must have a gift from StarClan. Must be careful next time._

She continues to watch with polite interest - her earlier fascination was put down because of the realization that he can listen to what she's thinking - as he creeps forward, keeping his tail low to the ground but above the rustling snow and leaves, and as quick as a shooting star from silverpelt, he pounces. A tiny squeak is abruptly cut off by sharp claws and deadly teeth. The rest of the apprentices crowd around him, even the haughty Weaselpaw, to witness this amazing feat. "You have to teach us!" "How could you be so quiet?" The forest fills with the annoying sound of inquiring voices. Flowpaw herself stays back from the throng, content to observe away from the action. Finally, Iceclaw notices her sitting, facing away from him, and trots over, carrying a limp squirrel. He flops down - even that seems graceful - and drops his head to her level.

"What's wrong, Flowpaw?" He asks with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, nothing," Flowpaw says truthfully. "Just thinking. Great catch."

"Thanks. Ready to start working on technique?" Iceclaw asks with a playful gleam in his eye.

"Yup," the white apprentice answers, getting up slowly, still daydreaming.

"Alright," the pale tom begins, addressing the gathering of apprentices surrounding him. "First, we need to hold very still." He demonstrates by holding his long tail near the ground and adjusting his back comfortably. His fur lies flat and his ears swivel back and forth, the only sign of movement throughout his entire body.

The group mimics his position, first crouching and then making each part of their bodies immobile. Flowpaw copies his rotating ears, trying hard to listen for something rustling under the rotting leaves. Her fur is suddenly jostled by a light breeze and she breathes in deeply. The aromas of things alive flood into her consciousness, overwhelming her scent glands at the roof of her mouth. So this is how Dovewing must have felt… except ten times more aware.

"Flowpaw, what are you doing?" Cherrypaw hisses from next to her. The white apprentices realizes that the entire circle of young cats is watching her, questions in their unblinking eyes.

"What was I doing?" Flowpaw asks, nervous and embarrassed.

"You were dreaming, I suppose," Lightpaw replies monotonously. "We had to say your name four times before you woke up." At a glance, Flowpaw sees her sister roll her eyes and turn to Weaselpaw, batting her eyelids flirtatiously.

_Ugh! Disgusting! She thinks _he's _a good mate? Or even a good friend?_ Her eyes roam the unfolding scene between her sister and Weaselpaw, and Iceclaw catches her gaze. His eyes seem to convey the message of _just wait, you'll be there soon, too._ Flowpaw nods reluctantly in return and resumes her hunting position, hoping she doesn't slip into a dream again. Her sister is already embarrassing her, and she doesn't need any more.

"Now try creeping forward as if a leaf in front of you was a mouse or a vole," her mentor continues, beginning to stalk a fluttering oak leaf hovering a mouse-length off the ground in the periodical gusts. His paws tred nimbly over the crunchy surface of the forest floor, not making a sound. How does he do that? Flowpaw wonders in awe. Someday, I'll be just like that. Without warning, the pale warrior pounces onto the leaf and shreds it in one fluid motion. "Ready to try, apprentices?" He asks, not even short of breath. Flowpaw nods excitedly and a soft tail brushes against her flank.

Beside her, Lightpaw turns, apology in her eyes. "Flowpaw… I'm sorry. I was just tired. Well… good luck." Warmth blooms in the orbs that are her eyes and Flowpaw feels deep inside that Lightpaw really is sorry. "It's fine, sister. I understand," Flowpaw replies and looks back at Iceclaw, who is watching as apprentices begin their task.

Every cat rushes to find a leaf and tries to be the first to catch one. Something in Flowpaw's mind tells her that speed doesn't matter - it's all stealth. Crouching low, she pinpoints a tattered maple leaf and keeps her eyes fixed on it. Her paws shuffle slightly in their positions, and she begins to sneak toward her target. It flits away and lands neatly on top of a tree root, and Flowpaw quickens her pace only slightly. Her tail hovers just above the ground, not disturbing the delicate quiet she has created. Almost there…. The leaf is finally within reach and she flattens her body, tensing her muscles to prepare for the "kill." She lunges silently, not even kicking up debris in her wake, and lands softly on the maple leaf, her claws piercing the delicate veins. A yowl of approval rises from Iceclaw, and he bounds over to congratulate her. Apprentices around her nod in praise, and she sees no triumph in the eyes of any of her denmates. I was the only one to catch anything? Me? Her mentor nudges her and leads the way back to camp, calling behind him, "enough for one day!"

Cherrypaw, the newest apprentice, trots next to her, bouncing excitedly. "Did you see the look on Iceclaw's face? I thought his jaw was going to fall right off, and you'd have to go hunt it down and give it back!" She laughs quietly at her own joke and races ahead, spreading the quip around. _Soon, it'll be all over camp and I'll never hear the end of it,_ Flowpaw complains internally, but then realizes what a success today was, and pushes her grumbles away. She actually caught something, even if it wasn't real prey. It might make a good plaything for the kits in the nursery, too…. Oh, what a day. A tiny smile stretches across her face and she meows ecstatically, dashing ahead of the rest of the apprentices and through the thorny tunnel and to the fresh-kill pile, picking out something to give to Iceclaw and something for herself. She turns around to find her mentor smiling down at her, warmth in his eyes. _I really did something good._ "Here," Flowpaw mumbles around the two pieces of prey in her mouth. "Do you want this?"

"Yes, thanks. Flowpaw, you were remarkable today. I think I'd like to get you hunting as soon as you can. You'd more than ready." Iceclaw's eyes light up as he sees the overjoyed expression on his apprentice's face. "Go to sleep, before you smile yourself all the way to StarClan."

"Yes, Iceclaw!" Flowpaw shouts after him and prances into the apprentices' den, where she is greeted by the sullen slouch of her sister. "Lightpaw, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. _Nothing_ is wrong," Lightpaw hisses, anger tainting her beautiful complexion. "You go be your perfect self. See if I care." Her white body curls up in her nest and becomes still, with only the faint rise and fall of her ches hinting she's still alive.

"Oh, Lightpaw, I'm so sorry. I didn't try to be so… oh, nevermind." Flowpaw tramples in her own nest, lies down, and lets guilt invade her thoughts. _How could I be so selfish and proud? Look what I've done to my sister. She probably thinks she can't hunt now. Lightpaw… I'm so sorry._

**O O O**

In the harsh moonlight, the lean shapes of felines twist around boulders and undergrowth. As if on a silent command, they leap at each other, tearing and biting their enemies to shreds. Bloodcurdling yowls split the air, making the birds resting in their nests awake and fly away in a confused frenzy.

"This war will never end!" A deep voice yells over the chaos. "Not until you traitors are put to justice for -" With that, the cry is cut off as a throat is slit and blood runs red down the once-serene rocks.

"No, this war _will_ end. Very, very soon," a sly meow replies, holding the bleeding cat close. "And then end will start… with _you_."


End file.
